


This Charming Man

by elf_punk



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst to Fluff, Established Relationship, F/M, Insecurity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-11-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:08:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27439360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elf_punk/pseuds/elf_punk
Summary: Fred has been feeling insecure about his family’s poverty for a while, and believes you deserve better, a problem which worsens as Valentine’s Day approaches. A sordid encounter with Malfoy brings Fred’s issues to the forefront and he spirals, leading you to believe he’s ditching you on Valentine’s Day.
Relationships: Fred Weasley/Original Female Character(s), Fred Weasley/Reader, Fred Weasley/You
Comments: 2
Kudos: 107





	This Charming Man

**Author's Note:**

> Y’all know I’m a slut for writing fics based on songs, so this one is inspired by “This Charming Man” by the Smiths, because hearing it just reminds me of Fred.

“The Shrieking Shack?” you suggested, a mischievous glint forming in your eyes as Fred rolled his.

“Come on, it’s our first Valentine’s Day together, I want to at least try to have a serious day out,” he responded, a smile forming on his freckled face. “Although, I’d be up for spending the night there, if you fancy. We can give the lovely residents of Hogsmeade another reason to call it the shrieking shack-”

“Charming, Freddie,” you scoffed, trying to suppress the blush rising to your cheeks and focussing on the Gryffindor entrance ahead of you. “Anyway,” you continue, “I really couldn’t give a cauldron’s bottom what we do for Valentine’s Day. Being with you is enough,” you finished, giggling as Fred pretended to make a retching face at your comment. 

“Don’t talk to me about cauldron bottoms love, I had to deal with a year of Percy practically orgasming over them,” Fred said matter-of-factly, eliciting a loud snort from you. 

“There are things I want to be thinking about, and Pinhead’s cum-face isn’t one of them,” you stated severely, keen to change the subject, “honestly, I don’t mind. I just want something special.”

Fred, despite grinning as you entered the Gryffindor portrait hole and patting your head affectionately, felt a slight twinge of anxiety. He loved you and could confidently say that he’d never had such strong feelings for anyone in his life. He reminded you of that fact frequently, and tried his best to be the boyfriend you deserved but often, he felt like that wasn’t enough. His family’s financial situation was no secret, and while he was usually able to brush off Malfoy’s snide remarks with a well-aimed quip at the cunt’s greasy hair, Fred had found himself growing insecure as your relationship entered its seventh month. You, your friends, and most bitterly of all, your ex were minted, and he was - well, poor as dirt. 

He knew he ought not to worry, but he’d seen you fondling a diamond bracelet that your ex had bought you - you didn’t wear it often, but he’d seen you with it in the common room the other day. It was sometimes hard to see why you weren’t still with your ex, resulting in frequent feelings of painful inadequacy, but Fred dealt with the problem the same way he did any other - with a large helping of Zonko’s products and pranks.

“Earth to Fred,” you exclaimed, swiftly snapping your fingers a few centimetres away from his face, which was painted with the paradoxically dazed expression he wore whenever he was deep in thought. He immediately came to, and muttered an apology. 

“Why is it love, that whenever you’re thinking hard about something, it looks like you haven’t a thought in your head?” You asked him quizzically, desperate to understand how someone so intelligent could pass as so dopey.

Fred smiled sheepishly and scratched the back of his head, a habit that never failed to melt your insides. You loved seeing him flustered, chiefly because it happened so rarely. Regaining his usual bravado, he put his hands on your shoulders and pondered his reply for a moment.

“Because… I’m full of surprises!” He exclaimed, while spontaneously dropping his hands to your waist and spinning you around, a move which earned him a piercing squeal, a swat on the shoulder and glowering stares from several irritated third-years in the common room. By the time you had both calmed down, you were facing each other, hands on the other’s waist and eyes locked.

“I think we should kiss, just to break the tension.” you remarked, trying to maintain a poker face. Fred raised an eyebrow, and without warning, hopped away and poked his tongue out at you.

“Nope! I’m the master of surprises, remember?” he yelled, running towards his dorm with a cackle that reminded you uncomfortably of Peeves the poltergeist. You sighed, shaking your head.

He was an idiot, but he was your charming idiot.

—

Fred woke up early the next morning, determined to figure out how to make this Valentine’s day as special as he could for the both of you. He was going to prove that he could give you everything your ex could and more, even if it meant blowing the Galleons he’d been saving up for a new broomstick on a gift. Fred’s brief walk to Hogsmeade was occupied by his classic racing thoughts, as he tried to decide what to do for you. I’ll take her to that fancy-pants tea shop Angelina told me about last year! He instantly furrowed his eyebrows at the thought. No, not good enough. Don’t want her to think I’m re-using date locations. Oh Merlin’s beard, I’m not even going to take her anywhere at this rate.

Idly wandering around the village with his hands in his pockets, Fred took long and hard glances at every shop he passed. He resisted the urge to enter Zonko’s, as the chance of him leaving with the same number of Galleons he came in with was slim, and he needed all the money he had - what little money he had, he added as a bitter afterthought. After what felt like an eternity of passing from store to store, something twinkled through the window of Gladrags Wizarding Wear that caught his eye instantly. A twinkling, silver necklace with a pink gem hanging from it was advertised in the windows. 

Fred was transfixed by the ornament, and slowly approached the window to get a better look at it. It was truly beautiful; the dusted pink sphere contrasted with the silvery-white chain perfectly and the thought of you wearing the necklace sent an excited shiver down Fred’s spine, as he imagined caressing the soft skin of your neck around the chain. His heart fell as he glimpsed the price tag; it was all his savings. Still, it was worth it. He started towards the shop door, stopping at the sound of a familiar voice behind him.

“You’re not seriously considering buying that, Weasel?” the voice drawled. “Doesn’t that cost more than your house?”

Fred spun around and glanced at the white-blond haired wizard standing before him, a shit-eating smirk plastered across his pointed features. In front of him stood Draco Malfoy, surrounded by his usual braindead cronies Crabbe and Goyle. He knew he couldn’t lose his shit; a scuffle with those trolls was bound to lead to at least a broken nose, and there was no way he was taking you on a date looking like he’d come out on the wrong side of a bar fight.

“Fuck off, Malfoy,” he snarled, looking truly murderous and hoping that his tone would dissuade them from trying anything. 

Malfoy took in Fred’s show of aggression, and lost his smirk for half a second before composing himself and puffing out his chest once he was sure Crabbe and Goyle were flanking him. 

“Tut, tut, bad language there. I’d be careful not to use those words around your girlfriend, in case she figures out how much of an uncouth savage you really are,” Malfoy spat, eyes shimmering with glee as he watched Fred’s hands ball into fists, his face contorted with fury. Draco sighed, picking at his nails dramatically. “Shame, really. Well-bred girl like that shacking up with the likes of you. Pretty too, reckon I’ll give her a go once she’s ditched you-”

Fred did not hear the rest of Malfoy’s sentence. His ears were ringing, and his nails were digging into his palms so deeply that it was beginning to sting. 

Don’t start shit. Don’t. Start- Oh fuck it.

In an instant, Fred’s fist made contact with Malfoy’s jaw, causing the blond wizard to howl with pain and bend over double.

“You’ll pay for that one Weasel, you’re dead!” He spat, before groaning with annoyance at Crabbe and Goyle, who were looking stupidly between Malfoy and Fred. “Get him you cretins!”

Instantly, the two dung-brains began to flex their muscles and started towards Fred. Desperate to avoid a fight, he ran. Away from Crabbe and Goyle, and away from Gladrags; every step he took felt as though he was running from the only thing that would keep you with him. Still sprinting, Fred looked over his shoulder and felt a wave of relief rush over him when he realised Crabbe and Goyle had not followed him. How thick can you get? Fred thought, shaking his head as he slowed down into a fast walk towards the vague silhouette of Hogwarts Castle.

The upside of being a twin was that he seldom had to confront his own thoughts. He had a carbon copy of himself to sound the inner workings of his mind to, a facsimile to vent to when the going got tough. The absence of George at this moment was clear as day, as Fred’s mind started slipping into melancholy. As much as he despised Malfoy and his terrible family, Fred had to confront the fact that Draco was probably right. You were too good for him, and while he knew you deserved better than a wart like Malfoy, he accepted that you also deserved better than the likes of poor-as-dirt Fred Weasley. 

Fred skipped the feasts that day. Upon returning from Hogsmeade, he went straight to his dormitory and stayed there.

—

You were picking at your skin again. You’d kicked the habit in third year, but Fred’s marked absence from both lunch, dinner and today’s breakfast, compounded by the fact that today was Valentine’s Day brought the nervous tic back with a vengeance. George and Lee were also clearly avoiding you and the bitch of it all was that you didn’t even have class to distract you; Valentine’s Day had incidentally fallen on a Sunday, and the sight of lovestruck couples streaking towards Hogsmeade made your eyes sting. 

You’d checked the Hospital Wing and the Quidditch Pitch, you’d even in a moment of weakness, checked the area around Angelina’s dorm room to soothe the flare-up of jealousy that had overcome you. Finally, as you were leaving the Great Hall, you spotted Ron who paled at the sight of you, and attempted to stand up and leave. Unfortunately, he had a mouth full of sausages and had managed to spill a goblet of pumpkin juice all down his front, causing him to choke and curse. You cornered him like a tigress and slammed your palm on the table in front of him, causing him to jump and whimper. Hermione let out a snort from behind him.

“I don’t know where he is, okay?” Ron babbled, as Hermione rolled her eyes.

“Bullshit,” you growled, “you know I’m looking for him Ronald so just cut the garbage and tell me where he is!” you continued in barely more than a hiss.

“He’s in his room! Been there since yesterday morning!” Ron blurted out, looking immediately regretful. “Oh blimey, please don’t tell him it was me who told you, he’ll have my bollocks-”

You ignored him as he continued to ramble. Spinning on your heel, you furiously stormed out of the Great Hall and made your way to the dormitories, ignoring the curious eyes on you.

This was not okay. This was absolutely, by no stretch of imagination, okay.

Fists balling up by your sides, you snarled the password and darted straight to the seventh year dormitories, shoving past George and Lee quietly conversing outside the door.

“Hey! You can’t go in-”

“Shut up! You two have been avoiding me since yesterday lunch, any reason why?”

George wrung his hands and glanced nervously at Lee, who shrugged his shoulders in response.

“We’re sorry, he told us not to tell you where he was! Or- talk to you, for that matter. He doesn’t seem to be in a very good mood, he’s been poring over doxy venom since yesterday, so I didn’t ask.”

Shaking your head at George, you scoffed and continued up the stairs. You tried to suppress the sickening anxiety with rage, and shoved through the heavy-set door only to be met with a truly miserable sight. Fred was sat cross legged on his bed, in a pair of pyjamas that he’d clearly been wearing for over a day; his hair was a frightful mess and he was pale. The boy evidently hadn’t slept. A cauldron of some foul substance was perched at the end of his bed and his hands were clenched so firmly around the stirrer that his knuckles were white. Taking in your furious glare, he groaned and looked away.

“Go away, Y/N. I’m busy.”

You scoffed at the sheer cheek of his statement.

“Excuse me?” you just about shrieked. “We were literally supposed to meet up yesterday after lunch! I assumed you pulled some dumbass prank in potions and got a detention so I thought nothing of it, but then you decided to stand me up this morning!”

“I’m sorry, alright? I’m dealing with something, I just need to be on my own!” Fred exclaimed, fingers practically tugging at his hair. You sighed and took a seat at the other end of his bed.

“So rather than talking to me about your problems, you decide to ghost me for an entire day and hole yourself up? Good God Fred, you could’ve at least told me you needed time to yourself! You’ve been a proper asshole!”

“Yeah, alright. Yeah. I’m an asshole, sure. Malfoy’s an asshole too, reckon you’d be better off with him?” Fred seethed, turning his back on you and glaring out of the window. 

You were beyond words. 

“Fred, what the fuck is this? Do you seriously think I’d entertain a piece of shit like Malfoy? We were supposed to meet early today to go out, have you forgotten?” You paused, realisation dawning on you. “Fred… are you breaking up with me?”

Your voice was weak, and a knot in your stomach began to make its way to your chest, where it sat and grew. In a few moments you felt physically ill, head fuzzy with disbelief. Every second Fred spent not reassuring you was a second of full-body torture. You were glad you were seated, as your knees were fast turning to jelly. You lifted your eyes and let out a dry sob as you met Fred’s eyes, which themselves were beginning to water. You had seen Fred Weasley cry exactly once in your life, after his father was attacked in the Ministry. This was real. 

“W-why? Do you not want me?” you said weakly, fully aware of how pathetic you sounded. Fred shook his head quickly and groaned, turning away from you.

“No, I-” he seemed to struggle with his words, before finally blurting out a sentence so loudly that it made you jump.

“I’m dirt poor, Y/N!”

Your brows furrowed in confusion.

“You- what? What the fuck are you talking about?” You were beyond confused. Fred’s wealth was something you barely gave any notice to; if anything you felt uncomfortable with your own wealth, as it felt rather undeserved. Fred’s family were hard-working and loving and in your eyes, that made them the finest people around. With a sigh of frustration, Fred turned around to face you once more and moved closer to you.

“Look, I’ve seen you looking at that bracelet your ex bought for you.” You tried to cut him off, but he waved his hand and continued speaking, “I’m not good for you, you deserve someone who can buy you cool things and take you on cool dates. I can’t even get Valentine’s Day right!”

In an instant you let out a soft groan, resting your hand atop his head and stroking it lightly. Headpats were a thing that you both loved, and Fred couldn’t suppress the weak smile tugging at the corner of his lips. 

“You should’ve asked me, Freddie. That pile of junk doesn’t mean shit to me - I was looking at it and trying to figure out whether it’d be worth giving to my aunt! Her birthday is next week and she likes diamonds, you have to believe me - when do I ever wear it? I’d get it and toss it in the Black Lake if you asked me to, I swear,” you kept rambling, hoping he’d eventually get the message. “You’re the one I want, I have enough money for the both of us and besides, you’ve got the shop, you’ll be raking it in before too long!”

Fred’s eyes lifted to meet yours, and he nodded, causing you to smile warmly. He looked marginally relieved, but still wore that dopey glazed look that signalled to you he was still thinking about something. He was still insecure, and it was going to take more than a conversation to fix. 

“I know you don’t think you’re worth my attention, and the constant shit you get from the Slytherins probably doesn’t help either. But I love you and in my eyes, your family is the richest one I know. Not in Galleons, but- “

“Please don’t finish that sentence with ‘in heart’ I might actually vom.”

Fred had a glint in his eye and while the traces of sorrow were not completely gone, he seemed in better spirits. You scoffed, and tangled your fingers with his, slightly embarrassed.

“No, I was actually gonna say rich in idiot gingers who can’t finish a serious conversation.”

As you spoke, a voice from the other end of the room chimed in.

“Definitely true of the Weasley clan.” George chuckled, stood at the other end of the room, leaning languidly across the door frame with Lee Jordan poking his head in from behind him. 

“Were you here to make sure I didn’t extract Fred’s vital organs and make a lovely soup out of them?” You asked incredulously, earning a laugh from Lee and George.

“Yeah something like that. Now shove off lovebirds, we want our room back.” Lee said, sauntering past George and sitting on his bed.

“Fine. Get changed out of those pyjamas and meet me in the common room as soon as you can, Freddie. We’re going to the shrieking shack.”

Fred’s eyes glinted and he licked his lips, causing Lee and George to look back and forth between the two of you in horror.

“Excellent,” Fred replied, ignoring the deeply uncomfortable looks of his twin and best friend. He wasn’t completely happy, but his mood had improved enough and the dull ache in his chest was bearable for now. He wasn’t sure what you had planned for him, but frankly, he didn’t care. He just wanted to spend time with you.

As you made your way out of the boys’ dorm room, you weren’t exactly happy. You were relieved that this incident didn’t spell the end of your relationship with Fred, but you were absolutely furious with yourself for letting him suffer silently for so long. Then again, Fred was the “master of surprises” and you chuckled as you realised you’d thought that phrase in his voice. You were going to make things right. Together, you were going to make him see that he was worth your love and that it was absolutely dreadful that someone so charming could be so insecure.


End file.
